From Fame to Infamy
by Moiranne Rose
Summary: She's watched Sephiroth ever since he was still an developing experiment. She's chronicled his life in notes and observations. Arguably, she knows Sephiroth better than anyone else. And he doesn't even know she exists.


**Title: From Fame to Infamy**

**Summary: A scientist under Hojo sees Sephiroth, her master's favourite creation, fall to his death. And after 5 years, she hears of him again.**

**A/N: This is mostly just an idea that popped into my head while I was struggling with Crisis Core. I always imagined Hojo to have followers who were as mad as he was. I have fun writing twisted minds.  
**

**Beta (as always): GoldenShinyWireofHope  
**

* * *

If she had to say one thing about Nibelheim, if anyone ever cared to ask, all she could say was, "It was a waste."

As if she hadn't spent 5 years alongside her master, Professor Hojo perfecting his pet project. As if she hadn't seen Sephiroth as a fighting machine, in action, while dutifully taking down notes to pass to Professor Hojo. As if she hadn't been the one to hand the Professor his scalpel to do that decisive process of cutting and fusing the shoulder blade and wing together. As if she hadn't watched as the General of SOLDIER lay, strapped onto a table, half-conscious, by the straps and shackles that she had made sure were hardy enough.

On the day her master lost his favourite creation, she had been there to pick up the new samples. Even when she saw them, even when she heard that they sustained multiple stab wounds, each penetrating through them, and were still breathing, even then she knew, they were not the same. There was a certain amount of "favoritism" that was placed in the first creation, the one that shared Professor Hojo's own blood, the one that was his _child_.

Her formative years as a scientist had been his first at SOLDIER too. While she trained under Gast, she had watched as helearned techniques and absorbed them with such efficiency and such speed; it was as inhuman as he was.

* * *

_He wasn't aware that she was watching him from outside the Training Room._

_**Materia Training: Day 1**_

_She wrote the header on her notebook and proceeded to scribble notes on her notepaper as thoroughly as possible. She really wanted to make a good impression._

_Behind rectangular glasses perched high on her nose, she carefully documented:_

_**Stance**__: His weight is even on both feet. He gets into the offensive quickly and efficiently._

_**Sword wielding: **__He was wielding a two-handed sword mainly with his left hand. Note: change his weapon to a one-handed sword, perhaps a longsword?_

_**Focus**__: Almost complete. He focuses well on the task at hand, and is merciless while at it._

_**Materia use:**__ Uses it well as an alternative to his sword. Prefers Elemental Spells, as most do._

_The training session was over before she knew it. Th especimen, standing near the middle of the 'Arena'-like complex, panted slightly, almost unnoticed. Her eyes picked up the panting and immediately jot it down. Professor Hojo would have to look into this.__**. **_

_She turned. Had she imagined it? Almost out of the corner of her eye she could have sworn that she saw the experiment stare at her straight on, with those mako-infused eyes._

_As if he knew she was there all along._

* * *

When she first came under Professor Hojo's command, he had been wrestling with a problem. A problem that had to do with a certain friendship with a SOLDIER Second Class. A Zackary Fair.

* * *

"_He's feeling these...feelings towards his underling, that Zackary Fair. It might be interesting to observe."_

"_Indeed Professor."_

"_Would you consent to take note of his meetings with this Zackary Fair? I understand you have done the same for many other occasions."_

"_I do not mind the responsibility Sir."_

"_Then you shall go and examine their interactions. This could be valuable information for further improvement!"_

"_Yes Sir."_

* * *

The same Zackary Fair that would become his poor replacement as an experiment. Along with an unnamed specimen, according to the papers, an infantryman by the name of Cloud Strife.

Sephiroth...that name had become the name of a hero, the name of a warrior, the name of a destroyer, the name of an experiment that had gone so horribly wrong.

The same man, who had, in a second, destroyed over 20 years of development. The same man who plunged into the Reactor, with her referring to various security cameras at all ends of the Nibelheim Reactor, rapidly taking down notes as he descended.

After the fall, she shook her head and snapped her book shut with finality. What a waste.

* * *

5 years later, she's older, though never relinquishing her position. She hasn't received a promotion, or sought it out. She never wanted to delve into the war in ShinRa of corrupt personnel and power-hungry superiors.

She hears rumours of a "One Winged Angel of Death". Wing...She can still remember the process that had taken the whole night to finish. Is it the same specimen? The same one they had given up on, but never quite forgotten?

The Zackary had died. The Cloud had defected. The Nibelheim that had been razed to the ground had been built up again, as if nothing has ever happened. Yet her heels still strike the carpet soundlessly as she turns into the Experimentation Laboratory 1, just like she had 5 years ago. The bent back of her superior straightens immediately.

"Lia."

"Professor Hojo, some have been saying that Sephiroth has returned."

There's no visible shock. Was he...expecting this?

"And you sources are?"

"..." His clipped tone demands no answer. He walks over and places one freezing cold hand against her shoulder, the chill of it making her instantly uneasy and wary.

"Since when have we been so easily swayed by _rumours_? We are people of science. We distrust anything unproven by hard evidence. There is no evidence to say that Sephiroth, of all people, is back."

She nods. After all, that is the motto of their department. They seek truth and improvement, perfection and ways to achieve it. Not fancies and whims.

The grip tightens.

"Anyway, what can a failed experiment do?"

* * *

**A/N: Hojo underestimates the lengths someone would go for revenge. I didn't really like this, but it was...okay. I guess.**

**MR (not begging till the last)**


End file.
